TEN THOUSAND DREAMS

I had a dream a few nights ago. It must have been about a telescope, but the only thing I could remember was seeing  text, as if on a page in a book which read:
"The old king said: What marvelous kind of glass could this be to build such a machine?"

As dreams go, it wasnt earth shattering, but it woke me up enough to consciously think to myself that its not the glass so much, its just the shape of the glass.  Glass is glass.
But I hoped to remember the dream, and I did. It was the first thing to spring to mind the next morning, and I pondered its meaning all day.
I guess it don't mean nuthin'.

But I'm sitting here this morning, and I suddenly realize I had a REALLY GREAT dream last night. One that jarred me fully awake.
One that tempted me to actually get up and write it down.
It was surely to be one of the more important dreams of my long life, and I was sure because of that I would be able to remember it completely.
But the fact is I cant remember it all all. Not the least little bit.
I can only remember that I had it, and hope that I might someday have it again and be able to recognize it.
Don't you just hate that?